


The Benefits of Leaving a Party Early

by Emily (JustAround)



Series: August 2018 Fic-A-Day [3]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-04
Updated: 2018-09-03
Packaged: 2019-07-06 16:33:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15889842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustAround/pseuds/Emily
Summary: It all started with two errant partygoers





	1. The Benefits of Leaving a Party Early

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place after Age of Ultron and before Captain America: Civil War for MCU and after Season Seven of Buffy

The evening air sent a slight chill down Buffy Summers spine as she stepped onto the terrace. The thumping bass that overwhelmed her senses was just a muffled nuisance now, with the night time noises of the city bringing a more comforting feeling than the music. Her heels clicked sharply on the ground as she walked the opposite direction of the party, needing to take a break from the crush of people.

It was Willow’s fault, really.

Her trip to Miami was originally a quick in and out; get there long enough to retrieve a stolen amulet from a vampire clan then jet out to meet the gang back in Cleveland. The plans were changed when Kennedy’s family - more connected than Buffy had initially realized - was invited to a Stark Industries fundraiser, designed to raise money for a scholarship fund to encourage promising young math and science students. With the rest of Kennedy’s family unable to attend, and Willow unavailable on a special mission for the Watcher’s Council, Buffy had been lucky enough to be chosen to go with Kennedy to the event.

That and Willow thought it would be a bonding experience for the two who, while civil and able to work together, were far from friends.

The great bonding experience lasted all of ten minutes into their arrival, when Kennedy recognized some old friends and promptly abandoned Buffy to join their conversation. Not that Buffy blamed her, really. If she could choose between catching up with old friends or spend the evening with someone you only tentatively got along with, it would be an easy decision. Besides, her small talking skills could always use a little polish and really, it could never hurt to make potential new connections to help the Council.

She had not taken into account the noise level of the event. Most of the evening had been fine, what with the silent and live auction taking most of the attention of the room, but the after party music was a bit loud for her Slayer-sensitive ears to take. Or maybe - not that she would admit it - her age was starting to get to her, since the ringing in her ears had almost hit a migraine-inducing level. Best to avoid that by taking a little walk.

The empty courtyard behind the venue gave Buffy an amazing view of the ocean. A rocky wall had been built at the edge of the courtyard, giving something for Buffy to lean her elbows on as she gazed across the water. The migraine that had been building was slowly beginning to ebb as she listened to the peaceful sound of the ocean waves lapping at the shore.

Being abandoned isn’t so bad, she admitted to herself. I don’t get a night off that often. Might as well take advantage and live it up. Life is short. Get all the fishes.

The sound of footsteps behind her broke her out of her thoughts and she turned around, reaching out with her senses to determine if the person - being? - approaching was a threat. The tension in her shoulders relaxed slightly as the source of the footsteps came into view; it was just another errant fundraiser attendee, albeit older than the average crowd at the after-party. The footsteps were strong in gate, confident even, belonging to a person who understood their abilities and limitations and could handle both.

It was enough to entice her interest. It wasn’t every day, after all, that she met someone who was willing to own up to their limitations.

She couldn’t help but laugh at the wayward party-goer, wincing as he rubbed his ears. She was in the same boat, after all, and understood his pain. “Little too loud for you?”

He seemed startled by her question, surprised at her very appearance, though he recovered well. Her estimation of him rose; while he didn’t notice her there at first was a slight downgrade, most people would not expect someone to leave one of Tony Stark’s parties. She could give him a pass for that. It was his recovery that impressed her most - he was already preparing for a potential attack, his body poised to deal with such a thing. When he realized the question was posed by just another person avoiding the noise of the party, he smiled.

“Sometimes Tony goes a little over the top,” he said with a grin of his own.

“Sometimes?” Buffy asked, a little playfully, “And Tony, huh? You must be BFFs to call him that.”

He snorted at that, shaking his head. “Something like that. Tony and I go way back.”

Even though he was evasive at her comment, Buffy couldn’t blame him for it. In fact, she pretty much respected it. While the world knew about all of Tony Stark’s tabloid escapades, there was very little mentioned about his close friends. The man in front of her must be close to Tony indeed if he thwarted any attempt to gather more information about the genius billionaire.

“How long do these parties usually go?” she asked, relaxing back on the rock wall she had claimed earlier. “If it’s anything like the ones I used to attend back in LA, it probably ends somewhere between ‘everyone passing out’ and ‘someone ralphing in a place too obvious and gets complained about’, but I’ve never been to one of Tony Stark’s bashes.”

“That pretty much sums it up,” he admitted, taking his own spot on the rock wall. Close enough to have an easy conversation, but not too close to invade the personal space. “These type of galas are a little different. Tony is serious when it comes to raising money for charities, so these ones usually end early in the morning, but not ridiculous so. But all that is off the record.”

She held her hands up in innocence. “Not a reporter. And so not one to talk to tabloids. I just can’t respect any type of publication that constantly claims the world is ending. I get enough of that with my job, I don’t need to encourage that in my off time.”

He looked sharply at her, his grin fading slightly, even as hers kept up. “World ending?”

“I work at a private girls school,” she explained, enjoying that she could use her current occupation to discuss her secret life without anyone realizing the truth. “I swear, a day doesn’t pass without something world ending happening.”

With a shake of his head, he chuckled. “You’re a brave woman. I think I have it easier, dealing with air force recruits.”

“Military, huh?” Buffy said, glancing him over. “I can see it.”

“The aura of braveness? The strength of my stride?” he asked, smirking at her. 

“The haircut,” she replied blandly. “And the shoes. Everyone worth anything in the military wears the most sensitives shoes I have ever seen. It makes me want to cry, thinking of all those Jimmy Choo shoes not being sold.”

Automatically, his eyes dropped to her four inch stiletto heels. “It’s hard to serve Uncle Sam wearing shoes most people can’t run it.”

“But if you learn how to run in them, they’re a go-to weapon for being attacked,” she countered. “Shoe itself can be a blunt force weapon and the stiletto can do all kinds of damage.”

That got another laugh out of him. Shaking his head, he put out his hand. “I don’t think we introduced ourselves. I’m James Rhodes, Air Force.”

“Buffy Summers. Self Defense instructor,” she said, reaching out her own hand to take his in a firm shake. As their hands dropped, she tilted her head at him and asked, “Well, James, what do you say we take a fashionably early exit and go grab something to eat? I’m pretty sure I saw a fantastic late night restaurant on my way here.”

“I’d like that, Buffy,” James said as he stood up, offering his hand to hers, to help her up from her position on the wall. A sense of humor and politeness? Maybe this trip wasn’t such a terrible thing after all. Not everyday you met a guy who was amused by her, instead of intimidated. Instead of blowing her off. Yes, she was suddenly a bigger fan of this trip than she thought.


	2. Keeping Secrets

“I made a mistake. A full-out, huge mistake,” Buffy announced, wincing as the rubbing alcohol hit the cut on her back. “The rules we put in place about proper medical care? I was having an out of body experience. I wasn’t in my right frame of mind. Therefore, I rescind my approval. Motion denied. Back to the drawing board.”

Faith snorted, rolling her eyes. “Geez, B, didn’t know you were such a baby. It’s just a cut.”

“Which means it doesn’t need any medical attention!” she said brightly, twisting to get away from her sister slayer. Unfortunately, the non-injured Faith had reflexes slightly faster than hers at the moment, and her attempt to escape was thwarted. She pouted as Faith continued cleaning up the ‘just a cut’ - the remnant of a demon claw that had raked across her back during their patrol. Since demon claws often led to infections, cleaning it out was one of the rules of the newest iteration of the Watchers Council.

It didn’t mean that Buffy couldn’t complain, though she made sure to do so when the newbie slayers weren’t around.

“I can’t believe you let a Howler demon catch you,” Faith said as she placed a bandage over the cut, only doing so because she knew it would annoy the other slayer. “Getting slow in your old age.”

Buffy turned to glare at her. “I was too busy making sure your slow ass didn’t get gutted. I blame you.”

“So nothing new,” Faith said flippantly. “Good to see the game of Blame Faith is still alive and well.”

Her response was interrupted by the sound of her cell phone ringing, and Buffy froze, for the life of her not able to remember where the phone had gone. A frantic search ensued, in which half of the room was upended in the desperate attempt to find the phone before it stopped ringing. There was a rush of victory as she found the phone under a demon encyclopedia - how in the world had that happened - and she breathlessly answered it, “Hello?”

“Hello, Buffy,” James said, his voice amused as he asked, “Did I catch you at a bad time?”

“No, not at all!” she said reassuringly, sitting back on the bed as she shooed Faith away. “The phone tried to make an escape, a battle ensued, but in the end, I came out victorious.”

Faith’s incredulous look was ignored by Buffy, who glared at her once again and motioned for her to go away. Faith merely snorted lightly, walking the room as she feigned interest in different things on Buffy’s chest of drawers. Giving her fellow slayer the stink eye once more, she turned her attention back to the phone as James responded, his own tone still tinged with amusement, “You must have some pretty impressive phones in Cleveland, to try to escape like that. Not even Tony has developed one with those capabilities.”

“It’s the water here,” she said airily. “Not only able to start on fire, but gives cell phones otherwordly abilities.”

“Note to self; don’t drink the water when I visit Cleveland,” he said firmly, a pause in his voice as he seemed to add somewhat self-consciously, “If I visit Cleveland.”

“I liked the first one better,” Buffy said impulsively, biting her lower lip in uncertainty, hoping she hadn’t said the wrong thing. While she and James had clicked during her trip to Miami - one that may have extended a few days longer than originally anticipated through absolutely no fault of her own, she claimed - all they had were phone conversations since then. Someone as successful as he probably had a plethora of women interested in him, more able to meet him at an intellectual level.

“Speaking of visiting,” James said, oblivious to her uncertainties, “I looked at my calendar and I have a pretty light week when you’re in town. If you have some nights free, I’d like to take you to dinner.”

“Consider me dinner-having,” she said, not able to keep the smile off her face. “Most of my appointments are during the day. I can text you the nights I have open?”

“That would be great,” he said. “I…”

He trailed off, and Buffy could hear a muffle of arguments in the background, arguments that even her Slayer-hearing couldn’t quite grasp. A sigh echoed, and his voice came back, apologetic, “I just got a call. I need to take care of something. Text me? There’s a steak place here I think you’ll like.”

“I will,” she promised, part of her a little disappointed at the shortness of the call, the other part of her excited at the prospect of seeing him again in a few short weeks. “Good luck with…the thing. Tell whoever is causing trouble that you’re in charge. Says me.”

He snorted at that. “I will. Take care, Buffy. I’ll talk to you soon.”

“Goodbye, James,” she said. With slight regrets - wishing they could talk longer - Buffy pulled the phone away from her ear and ended the call, pointedly ignoring Faith. In fact, she purposefully turned her back on the other woman, pretending to be utterly occupied by straightening her room - which in her defense did need to be cleaned after her desperate phone-search. 

“Methinks someone has been keeping secrets,” Faith said suddenly.

Buffy turned slowly at the comment, haughtily saying, “Casual conversations with potential contacts doesn’t entail secrets.”

“Don’t gimme that crap, B,” Faith snorted. “You like him, whoever he may be. But don’t worry. I’ll keep your little secrets.”

She smirked, winking at the other slayer. “For now.”


	3. An Unexpected Guest

The sport coat was too much.

James frowned at his reflection, shrugging the jacket off and folding it crisply over the nearest chair. Re-evaluating his reflection once again, he nodded once in satisfaction, then glared at himself for the foolish gesture. There was no need to be so nervous; it was only a dinner, after all.

Their first official dinner.

The one they had shared after Tony’s charity gala didn’t count, really. That was more of an excuse to leave the gala after party early, after all. Neither of them had really expected anything to come of it. It was just supposed to be a pleasant dinner, after which they could say their goodbyes and leave with the knowledge there was nothing expected after the dinner. 

But maybe that was why this…thing between them was working. No expectations going in.

A sudden knock at the door broke him from his thoughts and he frowned as he glanced at his watch. He still had fifteen minutes before Buffy was supposed to stop at his place, and while he did not expect her to be fashionably late, this was a tad early. Leaving his jacket on chair, he hurried out of his bedroom into the main hall. His pace quickened as he neared the front door - 

Only for it to open without warning, and for Tony Stark to come bursting through.

“Do you hear that sound, Rhodey?” Tony asked, not even pausing long enough for James to answer. “That is the sound of complete and utter betrayal. There I was, planning a meal for my friends - a rather fantastic one, if truth be told - “

“Tony..”

“Knowing since they’re all in town, it would be just delightful to have a meal together, what with all of us being separated so often - “

“Tony.”

“And when I go to invite you, what do I learn from Friday? That you have plans. Plans that you didn’t tell one of your best friends,” Tony looked at James, putting a hand to his heart. “I’m hurt, Rhodey. Truly and utterly hurt. Devastated, even.”

Not able to hold back an eyeroll, James just shook his head. “I am allowed to have plans. I tend to have many of them, what with the obligations of my job.”

Waving that off, Tony shook his head as he walked over to the closest chair and sprawled onto it. “I highly doubt any of your job obligations would entail having dinner with someone named Buffy. That doesn’t really strike me as ‘Air Force’. Though if it is, I missed out greatly when I didn’t join up after college. I would have enjoyed meeting many Buffys.”

Part of him realized Tony was just trying to rile him up, but another part of him was annoyed at the slight to his soon-to-be dinner companion. “First, how did you even know who I’m having dinner with? And second, don’t joke like that, Tony. Buffy deserves more respect.”

“Oh, your calendar is hooked up with mine, so I know when you’ll be around. Vision helped set it up the last time you were in town,” Tony said airily, brushing off the question with a wave of his hand. Adjusting slightly in his chair, his elbow resting on one arm, and his head coming down to rest on his hand, he said, “But that doesn’t really matter. What I find more intriguing is this mysterious Buffy, who as a close friend and teammate, I really should know more about a lady you are so protective of.”

“Doesn’t really matter?” James said, incredulously. “You invade my personal calendar, hook it up to your system, and that doesn’t matter?”

“I’ve done worse.”

“That…that does not even begin to excuse this.”

“Just pointing out the facts, since we seem to be veering quite off-topic because really, between accidentally invading - “

“You had Vision set it up. How is that an accident?”

“Your privacy,” Tony continued, as if James had not said a word, “And learning all about Buffy, really, I think the answer is clear. As a close, personal friend - “

“That friendship may be on the rocks at the moment,” James retorted, glaring at the other man.”

“I still can’t believe you didn’t tell me anything.”

“He doesn’t tell you anything, huh?” called a voice from the still-open doorway. “I think that’s less of a friendship and more of an acquaintanceship? An affiliation? A partnership?”

Both men’s heads swiveled towards the door as an amused Buffy stepped through the threshold, closing the door behind her. James startled at her sudden appearance, sending another glare Tony’s way for allowing him to become so distracted that he missed her arrival. About to tell his friend to get out, Tony recovered faster - typical - and said, “What do you have a calendar of synonyms for words? Thesaurus of the day?”

“You were this close,” Buffy said, putting her thumb and pointer finger less than an inch apart, “but no. I spend way too much time putting together reports discussing the benefits of high school girls working in cooperation with each other to do team-oriented activities. But yours was a good guess.”

Turning her attention away from Tony - a feat most people were unable to accomplish - a real smile bloomed onto her face as she looked at James. “Sorry for the early entrance. Buffy and driving aren’t mixy, so I Ubered it and turns out? They actually are faster than most cab companies. I was shocked.”

“It’s fine,” James said, waiving off her apology. “Tony was just leaving.”

“I am still right here,” Tony interjected, pushing himself off the chair, melodramatically creating a picture of petulance. “First of all. Second of all, how are you and driving not mixy? Third, mixy isn’t even a word!”

“Is now. I declared it as such,” Buffy responded with a firm shake of her head. “And as a person often responsible for the upbringing of the future leaders of this country, my word is pretty much law.”

James couldn’t contain the slight snort of laughter from escaping at the flabbergasted look on Tony’s face. It was very rare for a person not to kowtow to someone of Tony’s stature, wealth, and genius; it was even rarer still for said person to be so completely unphased by all of the above that they were able to beat Tony at his own word game. “And on that note, since you have left Tony momentarily speechless, I believe we have a dinner to attend.”

“The steak place?” Buffy asked with a hopeful grin. He walked towards her with a nod, putting his arm out for her to hold. Taking it easily, they walked out of his apartment, with Buffy calling over her shoulder at Tony, “Don’t wait up!”

As they walked out of his apartment, James could hear Tony sputtering behind them, faux outrage at being left behind. The brief interaction between Buffy and Tony had cemented one thing to him; Buffy Summers was someone worth fighting for. And he would do whatever he could to make this relationship work.


	4. Payback is a Bitch

James could barely take his eyes off Buffy as they walked into the restaurant, her arm gently held with his. Once again they found their schedules lining up, this time in New York City. It was not a place she visited that often, according to her, and he was determined to make the best of it by getting reservations at one of the best restaurants in the City. Dinner seemed to be their thing, and he wanted to take his girlfriend out to a nice place she had never tried before.

Even with her reservations about the cost, Buffy had indulged for the occasion, her red cocktail dress the perfection combination of dressy yet flirty, without being scandalous. He felt as if his IQ had dropped twenty points the moment he saw her, only his military training keeping him grounded.

She had sent him a smirk, as if knowing his reaction.

Leading Buffy up at the host stand, he tore his gaze away from her and said to the hostess, “Reservations for Rhodes.”

“Certainly, sir,” she said with a smile, her eyes going down to her computer as she looked for the reservation. A slight wrinkle of consternation appeared in her forehead momentarily before it cleared and she smiled. “Ah, yes, the reservation you changed earlier today. Yes, we have your table for four ready to go.”

He startled at that, frowning slightly as he started saying, “I di…”

“Rhodey!” said a familiar voice, “Good to see you’re punctual as always.”

Holding back a sigh, already knew what he would find when he turned, James released Buffy’s arm. He turned, not surprised one bit when he saw Tony and Pepper walking towards them, Tony not even phased by the change he had made in James’ dinner reservation.

“I noticed you were having dinner with Buffy here and figured, hey, it’d be great if we could all have a night out together. Get to know each other,” Tony said, giving his social smile to the gawking hostess. “As friends tend to do. Oh, and payback’s a bitch.”

Pepper went from smiling to exasperated almost immediately as she leveled Tony with a look. “Tony. You told me they knew about tonight.”

“They do,” he said. “Now.”

James took a deep breath, trying to calm him anger at Tony’s audacity, even though part of him was not entirely surprised by the turn of events. He saw Pepper giving Tony a similar took, and he opened her mouth to beat her to the punch - 

Only to be interrupted by an unexpected source. Buffy.

“It’s fine,” she said lightly, reaching for his hand and squeezing it lightly. “It’ll be fun, with the dinner having. Bonus, I get to plan revenge for it and you can give me all the deets on what makes Tony Stark tick.”

He couldn’t hold back a slight chuckle of laughter, the anger with Tony dispersing at her bright smile. Even Pepper relaxed slightly at that. Tony, of course, only grinned broader. James shook his head as they were led back to their table, silently considering how much of a challenge Buffy could pose to Tony. For all that he was ten years older than her, he knew that Buffy could definitely give Tony a run for his money. And potentially even win.

The advantage of Tony Stark altering a reservation was clear, as they were led to a corner booth, one tucked into a small alcove, giving them more privacy than almost any other place in the restaurant. Buffy thanked the hostess as she smiled and slid into the booth, turning to Pepper with a bright smile. Rhodey found himself sitting next to Buffy, staring at Tony across the booth, only half paying attention as the two women began to talk. He could swear he heard something about shoes. But he ignored it, focusing instead on Tony. “I thought I made my calendar private.”

“It’s amazing, really, how privacy features on phones are just so lackluster,” Tony said, signaling to the sommelier. “There should be some industry standards for that.”

His annoyance with Tony rose slightly with that offhand comment, enough that he failed to pay attention to the nearing sommelier. It wasn’t unusual for a sommelier to hold his arm parallel to the ground, with a napkin draped over it. That shouldn’t be enough to draw James’ attention. Yet somehow, as the sommelier neared their booth, James found himself tracking the man’s movement out of the corner of his eyes, even as he chatted with Tony, even as the women next to them had an intense conversation about best designer shoes. But his attention was diverted by Tony, and he missed the look on the man’s face, missed a small movement as the napkin dropped from his arm.

Missed as a handgun was pulled out of the sommelier’s pocket and aimed towards him. In that instant, James saw his life flash before his eyes, saw any potential future disappearing like ashes in the wind. Wished he would have paid more attention to the man, instead of just paying attention to him from the corner of his eye. In that moment, James’ hand started moving towards his hip, knowing it was too late to pull his own firearm.

Knew it was too late to say goodbye to some of his best friends and a girlfriend he knew, in that moment, he loved.

It was with that thought that James tensed, trying on vain to move faster than the man, as a gunshot rang out. He waited for the impact, knowing it was aiming straight for his chest, his heart. He saw as the pistol aimed his way, saw as the man’s finger went to the trigger…

And in that moment, Buffy was lunging across the table, faster than he could move, faster than the sommelier could move. The gun still went off, the bullet shooting out. But she had hit the man a split second before he had pulled the trigger and the shot went wild, missing James. James stiffened, Pepper screamed, and Tony hissed as the shot went through his shoulder instead. James stared at his friend’s face, watching as Tony’s face went white, watched as Tony’s hands went to his shoulder at the impact, watched as Tony slid down the booth, leaving a streak of blood behind him.

Without a conscious thought, James was already moving towards Tony, to put pressure on the wound, to keep his best friend from bleeding out. Suddenly, James found himself flashing back to his years of service, his body automatically grabbing anything he could find - cloth napkins in this case - to staunch the bleeding. Without bothering to ask his friend for permission, James ripped the suit coat off of Tony, watching in horror as blood soaked into the white dress shirt. The napkins went to cover the wound, leaving Tony in an awkward position of half sitting, half laying, as James put pressure on the bloodshot, to keep it from bleeding out.

The sound of Pepper’s voice broke through his flashback, and he vaguely heard her own panic-stricken voice on the phone, having called the authorities when Tony went down. That relaxed him enough to take his attention away from Tony and towards Buffy.

In the midst of all of this, with his flashbacks and Pepper’s panic call to the authorities, with Tony’s bullet wounds, Buffy had responded differently. They had all reacted to the situation, to keep Tony from dying. Buffy, as if knowing they would take are of Tony, was on attack with the sommelier. As James focused, he realized she was…yelling at the would-be assassin?

“You have a political agenda? I get that, not liking something and wanting to find a way to change that,” she was ranting as she ducked under his punch and delivered a jab-punch combination of her own, knocking the assassin back. “Sometimes it feels like your voice isn’t heard and end up with authority figures that don’t have the moral fortitude to do their damn job. But this?”

Her speech was interrupted as the sommelier lunged at her, faking a punch, and sweeping her feet out from under her. She fell to the ground, just rolling out of the way of a punch that broke through the wood of the floor. She kicked the man back before jumping to her feet, immediately going on the offensive a knee to the groin. As the wound-be assassin bent over from the pain, she brought a strong uppercut to his chin, finishing with a punch right in the jaw. A normal man would have gone down with that combination.

The fact that the man struggled back upright and planted a punch to her face proved there was something otherwordly about him.

Sirens caught James attention, pulling him out of his observation of the fight. Buffy seemed to readjust at the sound, her eyes shooting daggers at the man. “You have a problem with the government? By all means, have your sit-in. But the minute you try killing my boyfriend? All bets are off.”

With a ferocity he had never seen in her, Buffy moved towards the man, her movements a blur to James’ eyes. The other man was already prepared for her attack, though he faltered under her strength. Soon, the man fell to the ground, unconscious, with a troubled Buffy standing above him. As if on cue, police officers surged into the restaurant, towards their booth. Buffy took a step back towards James, allowing him to be slightly ahead of her, as if she knew the officers would believe he had caused the damage to the unconscious man.

James stiffened at the movement. He knew, without thinking, that the officers would believe that James Rhodes took the man down. That the Iron Patriot saved Iron Man from death. After all, who would ever consider the damage was done by a small blonde woman in three inch heels and dress? Even as he held the cloth to Tony’s wound, even as the police surged forward to put handcuffs on the unconscious man, he looked into Buffy’s eyes. And the worried, guilty look in her eyes did little to ease his concerns. What kind of woman was faster than both Iron Man and Iron Patriot?

He was determined to find out.


End file.
